Mc Eiht Under Attack Lyrics

Under Attack Lyrics

featuring Boom Bam

Heeeyyy Uhh Half Ounce in yo mouth
Check it out
Half Ounce in the house

Chrous: Bring the yellow tape nigga
FOSHO
Playa hatas infiltrate us niggas HELL NO
Fools ready to
die
Don't be afraid
Bring your gun and your sac cuzz we under
attack

Verse 1:
Takes no chances
End with up that least
circumstances
Keeps a cool composure
One time's takin those
glances
Who be's your enemy on the evilest team,
Racketeerin all your
C.R.E.A.M.,
Havin your worst bad dreams,
Pesos for all the amigos
and
the sistas,
How ya likin us now,
Competitas gon' bow,
Ain't nothin'
top dollar straight corner to corner,
Keeps my hand in the pie like little
Jack Horner,
SOLDIERS on my left right ready to die,
Infiltraters six
feet keeps our head to the sky,
Its a cold cruel world tryin to watch my
back,
Got these cold ass thugs ready to ride and jack,
SHIIT!! For the
paper,
Street Dreams and all,
Best be ready to hit the doo' when the one
times call,
Gots the picture its still for the money son,
And if you're
bailin' through Compton you betta bring a gun,

Chrous: 2x

Verse2:
Boom Bam
I deliever my blow it could be fatal,
Get yo ass smashed like
potatoes and gravy,
Maybe with some prctice you can fade me,
But I doubt
it, Picked up the Compton time
and read about it, How my crew makes the
front page
in a rage, In a live concert blowin blunts on stage,
People
swingin' on a chasity and got the place packed
to the maximum capacity,
People comin from far and near,
To get a glimpse of these gang-bangers,
playas and pimps, check it out,
When we roll we rolls thick like some nappy
ass hair,
Straight chronic smoke up in the air,
So get it straight
nigga,
Boom-Bam and Eiht nigga,(GEEYYAA),
Peeped yo' game from the start
nigga,
We know you fake nigga,
We gots to keep a close eye fools under
our backs,
Lock the gates sound the guns cuzz we under
attack.

Chrous:2x

Verse3: Mc Eiht
Betta' watch out for the
murder I wrote, Black super spokes
black stars and a black leather coat, On
a mission,
Dead presidents I gots to stackin, Enemies can't see the
ya-ya
in my jacket, Best raise up before I set it off on G.P.,
First rule
if you tryin' to bring harm to me,
Felony case catcher to the first
degree,
Like the ginger bread man yall can't catch me,
On the run stilla
nigga held no jail cells,
Keeps two steps ahead, No traces for
feds,
Phone taps instead, On the celluar phone,
Dumb as fuck cuzz they
don't know the number was called,
Outta the country, D.A. on the payroll
yall,
Me and a little senortia on my side the black heater,
Sweeter than
the rest, Paid pounds at gate sippin,
While shippin to the
U.S.A.,

Chrous:3x